Chapter 111

Chapter 111

It wasn’t until the lanterns were lit that Emperor Shunyuan’s condition finally stabilized, allowing Shen Zheng to finally leave.

During this time, he hadn’t been idle; he had begun to think over the whole event.

According to the Qian History, Wen Zuo and Xie Langyang seemed to be adversaries. Wen Zuo’s greed, power-hungry nature, and ruthlessness stood in stark contrast to Xie Langyang’s integrity, benevolence, and incorruptible righteousness. The two thus became staple characters in later folk operas and tales.

Because they were so remarkably similar—both born into wealthy families, one the top scholar, the other the second-ranked scholar, their official careers progressed smoothly without a hitch after entering government service—yet they ended up on completely divergent paths in life.

There was a common saying among the people: “The top scholar possesses both talent and looks; the second-ranked scholar has a brilliant mind but plain looks.” In later adaptations, Xie Langyang was invariably the central protagonist, played by the most handsome actors, while Wen Zuo’s image remained vague, as the Qian History provided no detailed description of him.

It wasn’t until later, based on Emperor Shengde’s personal journals, that scholars learned the starkly different ways their lives ended was due to their support of different princes.

Wen Zuo chose Shen Ting, while Xie Langyang chose Shen Chen.

Xie Langyang’s lament in his later years, “I failed to help Wanshan out of the muddy path,” seemed to corroborate this view and further burnished his personal image of benevolence and brilliance.

But after actually coming to Da Qian, Shen Zheng found everything to be vastly different from what was recorded in the Qian History.

Wen Zuo possessed dragon-like majesty and phoenix-like grace, with an ethereal, jade-like beauty rarely seen in the world. Coupled with his unparalleled intelligence and strategic genius, which left the entire court in awe, he often inspired admiration.

Shen Chen was merely a scheming opportunist who appeared cautious and meticulous on the outside but harbored sinister schemes within, utterly unworthy of being a wise ruler.

And Xie Langyang was far from the quick-witted and astute figure recorded by history’s brush. Instead, he was indecisive when faced with events, repeatedly suffered setbacks, and was constantly outmaneuvered by Wen Zuo.

If Wen Zuo had truly supported Shen Ting, who was backed by the Helian family and was a significant force in the court, with his intelligence and strategies, he certainly wouldn’t have lost to the combination of Shen Chen and Xie Langyang.

Although the history books recorded the struggle among the seven princes in detail, they concealed many details that didn’t add up.

The various princes fought to the death, yet after each upheaval, it was always Shen Chen who benefited.

He seemed never to have touched any shady dealings, yet he consistently reaped benefits others could only dream of.

When it didn’t make logical sense, scholars divided into two factions. One claimed Shen Chen was the chosen one, blessed with exceptional luck, or that Emperor Shunyuan had favored him all along.

The other believed that only fiction needed logic; real life doesn’t follow a script.

But no one ever suspected whether someone had been quietly erased from the record.

Whether someone had shouldered all the dark deeds, all the ruthless acts committed in the struggle for the throne, on Shen Chen’s behalf.

Shen Zheng formed a bold theory.

Historically, the person Wen Zuo actually supported was Shen Chen.

It was just that after Shen Chen ascended the throne, to sculpt his own radiant image as emperor, to make his succession appear destined by heaven and legitimate—rather than the result of emerging from a shadowy, treacherous struggle—he completely erased all of Wen Zuo’s achievements and even deliberately vilified him.

If that “Evening Mountain Rhapsody” was genuine, it meant Wen Zuo and Xie Langyang had been close friends before entering government service; they had originally been companions on the same path.

It was just that for some unknown reason, starting from some unknown time, the two turned completely against each other, reaching a point of life-and-death enmity.

But this falling-out did not exist in history.

Shen Zheng had once thought that his arrival had come at just the right moment, and that by helping Liu Qiying, he had managed to win Wen Zuo over to his side.

He believed he had changed the course of history, just like in all time-travel dramas, where the traveler naturally possessed such a cheat code.

But now he felt that it was Wen Zuo who had actively changed history, and because he wanted to change it, he had chosen him.

Regarding the final three games at the Spring Terrace Chess Association, Wen Zuo had always claimed it was a collusion between the Eight Schools and Nanping, and that he had learned of it in advance from a Nanping merchant.

But the Nanping envoy and the Xie, Shi, and Helian families all vehemently denied this.

At the Special Grace Banquet, during that self-played game, Shen Zheng had specifically observed the playing styles of the Mu trio and found they genuinely had the skill; winning against the Eight Schools fair and square was perfectly reasonable.

In the matter concerning Mo Shu, Wen Zuo’s calculations were flawless, even able to lay plans a month in advance, using the so-called “treasure” in the tent to ensnare Emperor Shunyuan, the Crown Prince, Shen Chen, Jun Dingyuan, and even Nanping forces.

Yet he claimed it was merely to bring the old general’s bones back to his hometown.

But in the military tent at the foot of Qingping Mountain, he didn’t seem like a stranger to Mo Shu. It seemed as if all his arrangements had originally been to save Mo Shu and protect the Jun family.

During the night interrogation of Lou Changsui in Mianzhou, Wen Zuo had once mocked himself, saying, “No one understands better than I how people change, how they step by step walk the path to becoming utterly wicked.” His expression and tone didn’t seem like he was acting in front of Lou Changsui.

All these complex and tangled threads intertwined in Shen Zheng’s mind, finally coalescing into a relatively clear picture that pointed to a possibility almost absurd, yet one that shook him to his core.

Emperor Shunyuan had decreed “investigate and verify overnight, review and finalize the judgment,” so Shen Zheng was able to conduct a night trial of the case.

He spurred his horse to the Dali Temple. Plain lanterns already hung from the eaves, their dim yellow glow swaying gently in the night breeze.

He had no time to admire the majesty of this government office. Stepping into the vermilion-lacquered main gate under the lantern light, he pulled off his cloak with a backhand motion, tossed it to a guard, and strode directly to the main hall. “Bring the people up, commence the trial immediately!”

Luo Mingpu and He Mingzhen were restless and anxious. Hearing the voice, they both stood up simultaneously, bowing nervously in greeting. “Fifth Prince.”

Shen Zheng dispensed with pleasantries. He stepped onto the platform, sat upright behind the official desk, lightly rested his right hand on the magistrate’s gavel, and uttered a cold, heavy “Sit.”

The two sat down again, their hearts uneasy. Before long, all persons involved in the case were escorted into the hall by prison guards.

The clerk announced: “The joint trial of the Three Judicial Offices of Da Qian, investigating and verifying the case of Xie Langyang forging the ‘Evening Mountain Rhapsody’ to frame Wen Zuo of the Hanlin Academy. The supervising judge is present. The court session commences—”

Below the platform, Xie Langyang, his hands shackled in square wooden shackles, was forced to kneel by two prison guards. His face was as pale as paper, and he raised his eyes to stare fixedly at Shen Zheng seated high on the dais.

Yet Shen Zheng’s gaze did not fall on him. Instead, it passed through the crowd below and landed on Wen Zuo, who walked at the very back.

Wen Zuo had been imprisoned for over twenty days. His cold ailment lingered unhealed, and he had just broken free from a nightmare. His body was already at the end of its strength, so he walked last, his steps still slightly unsteady.

His hair was still disheveled, the dark locks cascading like a waterfall. His outer robe was torn at the seams, hanging wrinkled and crumpled over his shoulders. Dried blood stained the corner of his eye, and a dark red blotch had spread on his sleeve. His already slender frame appeared even more gaunt after these days of suffering.

Seeing that Shen Zheng was the presiding judge, he obeyed the command, actively bent his knees, and slowly knelt down.

Shen Zheng’s heart felt as if gripped and twisted by a hand. If not for the imperial mandate, if not for so many people watching, he truly wanted to rush down the steps immediately, hold Wen Zuo tightly in his arms, and smooth away all his dishevelment and wounds.

Before, Shen Zheng had only read about literary inquisitions in history books. All that brutality and misery were lightly concealed by ink characters.

Subjectively, he understood the immense suffering imperial authority brought to the common people, but he had never truly felt the extent of that suffering.

But now, he finally understood. A mere rhapsody, just a few dozen characters, could so easily rewrite a person’s life, pushing them into hell overnight.

Because of his ignorance, he had been fearless, recklessly writing amorous words to Wen Zuo and willfully demanding that his responses be no less than his own.

But Wen Zuo was born in this era. He held a bone-deep reverence for the law and the authority of the emperor. He knew full well what kind of catastrophic disaster words could bring, yet he was still willing to respond with equal affection, placing immense trust in him.

This preciousness actually left Shen Zheng at a loss at this moment.

“Master Wen, rise. There’s no need to kneel.” Shen Zheng’s Adam’s apple moved with difficulty as he lightly raised his hand.

It had only been two months since they last met, yet the person he had so carefully cherished had been reduced to this state, teetering as if he might collapse at any moment.

From the moment Wen Zuo saw Shen Zheng, his eyes suddenly lit up. He complied and stood up, slightly raising his chin, the corners of his lips unable to resist curling into a smile directed at Shen Zheng.

At this moment, he was buzzing with exhilaration, his eyes brimming with the pride of certain victory.

Though he did not know why Shen Zheng had returned ahead of schedule, everything had fallen into place perfectly. He had completely foiled the plot of the *Evening Mountain Rhapsody*, and at this moment of triumphant success, he could see the person he most wanted to see, sharing this pinnacle of joy with him.

Shen Zheng looked at the fearless excitement in his eyes, momentarily unsure how to react.

Should he match his happiness? Yet his heart ached unbearably.

Should he express concern for his ordeal and injuries? But clearly, Wen Zuo had already tossed all that to the wind.

Shen Zheng clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. "Did they torture you?"

Wen Zuo replied triumphantly, "They never got the chance."

Shen Zheng let out a slight sigh of relief, his voice shifting from cold and heavy to hoarse, asked, as if after a narrow escape, "What about the blood?"

Wen Zuo raised his hand, gently shook his sleeve open to reveal his wrists, rubbed raw and bloody by the wooden cangue, his gaze still burning intently on Shen Zheng.

Shen Zheng ordered sharply, "Remove the cangue!"

The two bailiffs dared not delay, stepping forward to remove the cangue from Wen Zuo, freeing his wrists from their shackles.

Wen Zuo lifted the corner of his mouth, intending to share a triumphant look with Shen Zheng, but saw that Shen Zheng was only frowning deeply, his gaze fixed heavily on his injuries.

He faltered slightly, yet instinctively lowered his hand, letting his sleeve gently cover the wounds on his wrists.

Shen Zheng took a deep breath, temporarily suppressing his emotions, and finally turned his gaze to Xie Langyang below the dais.

The hall fell silent, save for the crackling of candle flames.

Suddenly, Shen Zheng raised the magistrate's gavel and slammed it onto the table with a sharp *crack*. The heavy sound made the candlelight flicker, startling everyone in the hall.

"Today, the three judicial offices convene in joint trial, upholding the laws of Da Qian and judging with fairness." Shen Zheng's voice was cold and deep, his deep-set eyes icy cold. "Xie Langyang, truthfully confess the details of how you forged letters, slandered court officials, spread rumors, and defamed His Majesty's good name. Any defiance will add to your crimes!"

Xie Langyang's pupils abruptly contracted. Straining his neck, veins bulging, he roared, "I did not! You know I did not! The *Evening Mountain Rhapsody* is real! Wen Zuo has always been fond of men—and on this point, no one knows better than you!"

Luo Mingpu drew a sharp breath. Though he was already panic-stricken and chilled to the bone, he knew Xie Langyang had gone completely mad, daring to openly implicate the Fifth Prince in the public court!

Upon hearing this, Shen Zheng's expression remained utterly unchanged. He said calmly, "Disrupting the court and offending the presiding judge. Strip him of his official cap and belt immediately, strip him of his rank, and have him stand trial as a commoner."

A blaze of bitter jealousy burned in Xie Langyang's chest, having completely consumed him. Swallowing his humiliation, his eyes bloodshot, he said, "I want to see the Emperor! I want to explain this matter to His Majesty personally, to recount everything! Lord Luo, help me convey this message to the Emperor!"

Luo Mingpu, flustered and anxious, was about to plead on his behalf when Shen Zheng coldly interrupted, "His Majesty sees with utmost clarity, having discerned your treacherous scheme from the smallest details. Your tricks of spreading falsehoods to deceive the masses are already futile. I advise you to give up this notion now and confess truthfully."

Xie Langyang stiffened his neck, abruptly closed his eyes, and assumed a posture of unyielding defiance. "I will say nothing until I see the Emperor! Your Highness need not waste your efforts here!"

Shen Zheng suddenly smiled, his gaze sweeping over the interrogation tally brought by Luo Mingpu beside the table. "Contempt of court, resisting interrogation, refusing to confess. Thirty slaps to the face, then resume questioning."

Hearing this, Xie Langyang instantly opened his eyes wide and shouted fiercely, "A joint trial by the three judicial offices does not involve torture by law! How dare you arbitrarily administer punishment!"

Shen Zheng picked up the black tally tube nonchalantly, holding it in his palm, lightly tapping its side with his fingertip. He asked indifferently, "Is that so? Then who brought this thing? And for whom was it intended?"

Cold sweat instantly drenched Luo Mingpu's entire body. He hurriedly stood up. "This... this was prepared by the former presiding judge, Gong Zhiyuan, with His Majesty's permission, for interrogating Wen Zuo..."

He Mingzhen also furrowed his brows tightly, adopting a stern expression to dissuade him. "Your Highness, according to regulations, torture must first be petitioned in a memorial to His Majesty and can only be carried out after His Majesty grants permission. At this moment—"

"Minister He." Shen Zheng looked up at him, his tone quite casual yet carrying an indisputable authority. "I permit you to submit a memorial impeaching me for arbitrarily administering punishment after this case is concluded."

With that, he took an interrogation tally from the tube and flung it toward the floor below the dais, the silver buckle on his wrist flashing a cold light. "Proceed!"

He Mingzhen was momentarily speechless, staring wide-eyed.

The entire court knew that Emperor Shunyuan was in poor health, and in all likelihood, the future throne would belong to this Fifth Prince. If he dared submit an impeachment memorial now, would he even survive in the future?

The flogging ruler descended with a sharp whistle, landing heavily on Xie Langyang's cheek.

A crisp sound echoed through the hall. A crimson ruler mark immediately rose on Xie Langyang's face, the burning sting spreading like snake venom.

Since childhood, he had been the legitimate son of a noble family, living in luxury. After entering officialdom, he had risen steadily, reaching the position of Minister. When had he ever suffered such humiliation, such agony?

He was completely stunned, his dignity like shattered porcelain scattered across the floor.

He stared at Shen Zheng in disbelief, his eyes filled with venomous hatred. But as the flogging ruler fell repeatedly, he no longer had the strength to hold his chest high, and involuntary cries of pain escaped his throat.

Xie Langyang struggled fiercely with his hands, the iron chains clanking loudly. Blood trickled from his nose and mouth. The pain gradually numbed, his vision blurred intermittently, and only his body, as if not his own, trembled violently beyond control.

Suddenly, the words he had spoken to Luo Mingpu that day at the Xie residence flashed through his mind—

"Once tortured, he will confess to anything."

At this moment, he finally understood the profound cruelty and despair that punishment inflicted upon a person.

He also finally understood why someone as proud as Wen Zuo had broken down under torture and confessed to all charges.

He heard his own heart-rending screams, even more piercing than those he had heard standing outside the door in his previous life.

"Ah! Aahhh—It hurts! Spare me—!"

After thirty strikes, Xie Langyang collapsed limply on the blue bricks, violently spitting out a mouthful of scorching blood.

"Xie Langyang, I am not one who delights in torture, so I kindly advise you: the outcome is already decided. Confessing sooner will spare you further suffering." Shen Zheng looked down at him from above, his voice calm and unruffled.

Xie Langyang mustered all his strength, struggling to prop himself up with his hands on the ground. His body swayed several times before he barely managed to raise half his torso, his scattered gaze slowly focusing.

First, he glared venomously at Shen Zheng, then stiffly turned his head, fixing his stare firmly on Wen Zuo.

Wen Zuo's eyes were truly beautiful; even tinged with scorn, they held a clear, elegant grace like distant mountains.

Mumbling incoherently, blood and saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth, he questioned with grief, indignation, and unwillingness, "Why treat me like this! You... why treat me like this!"

He had once ascended to the position of Chief Grand Secretary, renowned throughout the land, enjoying boundless glory and honor, bringing pride to his ancestors—that was the fate he deserved!

Reborn into this life, he had schemed step by step, only to lose everything completely, dragging the entire Xie family into an abyss of eternal damnation.

All of this was caused by Wen Zuo! How could he be so cruel, determined to strip him of everything!

Hearing this, Wen Zuo's eyes filled with mockery. That someone could be so shameless, believing all the world's benefits were his due and all misfortunes were plots by others.

Looking at Xie Langyang in this state, he curled his lips into a smile. "Xie Langyang, you have finally tasted what it's like to have all paths of life cut off. But the flavor of a fate worse than death—you're still a bit short of that. You'd best hold on."

Xie Langyang breathed heavily, the corners of his eyes nearly splitting, red veins crawling across his sclera.

"I will not confess! I would rather die than confess! I am a son of the Xie family of Nanzhou, born with the backbone of a righteous man! How could I bend my knee and compromise for the sake of torture!"

But his pride was utterly crushed after ten interrogation rods.

The heavy rods whistled through the air as they struck his legs, each blow feeling as if it would shatter his bones. His upper body jerked uncontrollably high, his entire frame convulsing violently until he finally rolled off the punishment bench onto the ground. The sounds escaping his throat were no longer human—they were shrill, piercing shrieks.

It was a pain that could break a person's spirit. All his stubbornness had become a joke.

Sweat and blood had soaked through his robes, his legs nearly numb. Xie Langyang's fingers dug deep into the brick crevices, his nails torn and flesh mangled.

Willpower had become utterly meaningless. He didn't know when he had begun to confess, nor what incoherent things he had confessed. By the time he regained his senses, the confession statement had already filled two long pages. Someone approached him with vermilion ink paste. He instinctively shrank his hand back, but a glimpse of the thumb screws standing to the side made him tremble deeply.

In the end, he still pressed his fingerprint down in humiliation, sealing the fate of Gong Yuwen and the entire Xie family clan.

In his daze, a flicker of bewilderment arose within him.

How had Wen Zuo endured that month? What kind of grief and indignation had allowed him to withstand all this suffering?

The night was deep, exhaustion hanging heavy in the hall. Xie Langyang's spirit had completely collapsed. Finally, Shen Zheng rubbed his temples and said in a low voice, "Xie Langyang's crimes are evident. Take him to the imperial prison at once. His sentence is pending a second review. Wen Zuo has been verified as innocent. He is to be released from all restraints and await further decree."